


oh baby you're my playground

by sysupportgroup



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: 96'Liner Idol Cameos, Alternate Universe - High School, Lovers to enemies to lovers, M/M, Minor Lee Jihoon | Woozi/Wen Jun Hui | Jun, Misunderstandings, lovers to enemies to friends to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-04 23:10:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15851337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sysupportgroup/pseuds/sysupportgroup
Summary: There is one truth in this school of lies: Soonyoung Kwon hates Wonwoo Jeon.





	oh baby you're my playground

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cuddlebone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddlebone/gifts).



> hello!! thank you for your prompt, i was super honoured to find out that i'd been writing for you but a little embarrassed about this meagre offering haha~ i tried my best to give you what you wanted but i honestly couldn't fit many makeouts in there so i hope the re-confession is sweet enough for you!! i also cheated a little on the initial lovers thing as well so i hope this isn't too disappointing hahaha...
> 
> please enjoy <3 
> 
> [title inspired by got7's playground]

Soonyoung’s high school runs on lies and he can prove this:

Exhibit A: Mystery ‘Meat’. Self-explanatory really. There’s a rumour going around that it’s actually _vegan_ , the horror.

Exhibit B: His English teacher claiming that their marked papers are going to be delayed because of other ‘administrative priorities’. When Soonyoung does get his paper back, there’s a neon cheese-dust stain on his previously pristine front page and an oily face-print on Junhui’s. Fourteen years old and that’s when he learnt adults can lie too, the frequency in direct positive correlation with the number of Masterchef re-runs showing that week.

Exhibit C: “The student election will be purely based on student voting, teachers will not have sway over the results.”

The last one especially he calls bullshit on.

Soonyoung had been well on his way to Head Boy last year, buddying it up with the juniors for his campaign and metaphorically kissing babies to up his coolness ranking amongst their pre-pubescent hordes. Except there’s a lot more exertion involved to win over a bunch of snot-nosed fifteen year olds than just smooching some wrinkly infants. Soonyoung had nearly scraped his palms raw scaling up the wall bordering their oval green - the highest one, to the insistence of the munchkins below - leaving his blood behind on the rough brick. _Tada_ , he’d pronounced once at the top, smirking victoriously at the baying crowd below, _Head Boy material am I right?_

“Yo, jump down!”

“What the fuck, Soonyoung! Get down!”

“Hey man, do a flip from there!”

“Nah, a cartwheel!”

“Parkour!”

With the tenacity of a magpie, Soonyoung had only latched onto the last suggestion, climbing to his feet on top of the ledge. He remembers everything shaking up there, teeth chattering away from the wind, body swaying in the gust and heart trembling away in the darkest corner of his chest. He remembers being scared but still wanting Head Boy a lot more, ambition warming his blood despite the fact that most of it was draining away from his face. He remembers looking down at the crowd, gathering vague scraps of muscle memory from attending play gym as a five year old, and after that, remembers nothing at all.

(“Fuck!”

No, Soonyou - _shit_! Someone get a teacher!

“Woah he actually did it!”

“Shit, we’re getting out of here.”

“Run, run, run!”

“Someone get a _fucking_ teacher!”

“I’m here - calm down everyone - _hey_ , everyone give him a wide berth! ...Soonyoung, can you hear me? It’s Miss Oh. I’m just going to…”)

Everything gets blurry after that. He’s pretty sure there must’ve been first aid that happened in-between but the sting of iodine, the application of ice, the wrapping of the bandages are all lost to his fuzzy memory. He remembers the consequences pretty clearly though: his mother half-crying half-scolding him on the drive back to their place, the repetitiveness of strapping compression bandages around his ankle every day for the next month, his form teacher taking him aside during class to explain that he should probably run for more than just Head Boy.

“It’s not that you’re not competent Soonyoung,” she’d explained to him, apologetic yet firm, “but I’d advise you not to hope for too much. Some of the teachers… they’re not looking too favourably upon you to represent the school after what happened last week. What about Year Representative? Or Culture Captain - you do a lot of extra-curricular, right?”

Dance. Choir. Band.

“Right,” his form teacher had patted him on the shoulder briskly like that had settled everything, hadn’t just snuffed out the flames of his highschool aspirations out in one polite blow, “you’d make a wonderful Culture Captain.”

And so that had been it.

Nevermind the fact that the entirety of the Year Nine cohort had voted for him, according to his younger cousin Chan. Or that he was one of the more popular kids in their year. Or that his Head Boy speech had been _spectacular_ , sprinkled with enough subtle dick jokes to obtain maximum laughter and minimum glares.

 _‘Purely based on student voting’ his ass_ , he’d thought as he ascended the stage, biting back a scowl as he smiled for the camera, accepting his shiny new Culture Captain badge. Once offstage, he’d draped himself over newly-crowned Treasurer Jihoon Lee and proceeded to seeth as position after position was called until -

“And now, announcing our Head Boy…”

Honestly speaking, he sees it coming before Principal Brown opens her wrinkled dusk-rose lipsticked lips. Because there’s always an exception to the rule, the one loophole that sneaks around and bites you in the ass.

The one truth in this school of lies: _Soonyoung Kwon hates Wonwoo Jeon._

Oh wait, his bad.

He hears the announcement as he turns tail from the gym, unable to escape the sickly lurching of his stomach.

 _Head Boy_ Wonwoo Jeon.

 

//

 

“Seokmin! Seokmin Lee! My God, _Seokmin_!”

Soonyoung shuffles across the gym’s squeaky floor as fast as his school shoes will let him, a trailing lace nearly making him catapult into a group of girls chatting on the floor. They give him judgmental looks as he rights himself as best he can, nearly falling the other way in the process and they laugh like his humiliation is compensation enough, turning away.

“Slow down there Soonyoung,” Miss Oh calls out to him as he does his shuffle-run past her, one side of her mouth twitching up in amusement, “and stop yelling across the gym - we’ve got an audience out there that can hear you.”

“Sorry!” He answers, giving her a cheery wave because he actually likes Miss Oh; is pretty sure she’s one of the few who didn’t count his totally badass parkour incident against his leadership potential in the voting last year. She’s the music teacher, pretty young in both senses of pretty and also young. Choir never had more signups than the year she started at the school. She’s was the one that entrusted him with a solo for tonight, the whole lead part to himself during _Bop to the Top_ in their High School Musical medley that he’s been humming non-stop for the past two weeks. Even his sister has started to hum it in the mornings; the realisation bringing about her immediate horror and the throwing of a slipper at his head.

“Seokmin!” He hollers at a lower volume, power-walking intently across to where he can see his best friend laughing it up with another choir kid. Seungkwan? He can’t entirely make out features from here but he knows that head of blonde hair from the Alto 1 section, has seen it bobbing in view too many times to count. “Seokminnie!”

This time, he’s loud enough for Seokmin to bolt up like a startled meerkat.

“Wha - ”

“You!” Soonyoung splutters out as he lets momentum carry him all the way through so that he smushes his body against his best friend’s, unapologetically knocking all of the air out of him, “will never guess who the fuck - uh, sorry, _fudge_ ,” he casts a quick look at Seungkwan, “ - is here tonight.”

“Uh,” Seokmin wheezes, slinging an arm around Soonyoung’s shoulder so that they’re propping each other’s frames up like leaning walking canes, “Your sister? Your mum?”

“Worse,” Soonyoung whimpers, pausing longer than necessary for drama, “Wonwoo Jeon.”

Throughout their entire highschool career, he has never seen Nerd Extraordinaire Wonwoo Jeon at a Back to School concert. Though then again, he doesn’t tend to see many of their peers here either. Their audience isn’t very much typically, just parents of the choir kids, teachers coerced into supervising for the night and kids from the primary school down the road who come for the free popcorn.

So to see Wonwoo’s lanky beanpole frame fussing about right at the front of the amassing crowd on the green tonight had given him a nasty shock, to say the least. Head Boy position must’ve inflated his already massive enough ego if he thinks that he can trespass into Soonyoung’s administratively allocated domain, especially on _his_ night.

“Oh no,” Seokmin deadpans, “it’s almost like Head Boy and Girl are required to attend all major events of the school calendar.”

Well. Okay. Thinking about it now, maybe he remembers Yerin in the crowd too, her trademark against-uniform-policy beanie free from the confines of her blazer pocket, slouched on her head.

“Still,” Soonyoung sulks, “ _I’m_ Culture Captain, not him. This is my thing.”

He trains petulant eyes on the other person hovering awkwardly in the makeshift circle with them, “Aren’t I right, Seungkwan?” He hopes he got that right.

“Uh,” Seungkwan says. He doesn’t correct Soonyoung on his name which is a win in his book, “depends. Maybe. Like if the school asked him to come, he couldn’t really avoid it right?”

Soonyoung contorts his face into a picture of scorn, “Bullshit, _I_ would’ve just pulled a sickie. He definitely doesn’t need to show his ugly face tonight.” The only conclusion Soonyoung can draw from Wonwoo’s presence tonight is that the other must be ridiculously uncreative or just a good ol’ stick-in-the-mud to not come up with an excuse; for this reason and many others, Soonyoung would’ve made a much better Head Boy.

_Click._

“Ugly faces huh?” Having snuck up stealthily, the perpetrator takes the camera away from his face to inspect the just-taken photo. He doesn’t even do them the courtesy of looking up. “Might wanna look into a mirror as your starting point.” He huffs out a laugh and turns the camera around so they can glimpse the preview. It’s a close-up of Soonyoung’s expression - cheeks blown out, too many wrinkles to count, flared nostrils and _is that a nosehair what the fuc-_

“Delete that the fuck now, Jeon.” Soonyoung says calmly, ignoring Seokmin’s laughter-induced fit, the face-splitting howling clutching-your-belly kind, and Seungkwan’s stifled snickers. “ _Now._ ”

Wonwoo sucks in air between the gaps in his teeth like he’s _oh so sorry_ , “But it’d make such a good cover page for the Yearbook.” He informs him smugly, pushing his glasses up as he keeps scrolling through the gallery with the small dial. “Candid exec photos are always a hit.”

“ _Yearbook_?”

Wonwoo blinks at him owlishly, playing dumb, “You know that big book we get at the end of the year, filled with pictures. Media Club - the one _I’m_ President of -  is in charge of it?”

“No I - ”  Soonyoung flounders in his indignance, making up for it in the only way he knows how nowadays - jabbing at his shiny badge and accidentally getting his chest instead with his pointer finger. It hurts but he puts up a brave front. “I _know_. I’m Culture Captain!”

“Oh yeah, it’d be right up your alley then.” Wonwoo says sarcastically, regaling him with a cat-got-the-canary sort of expression that Soonyoung doesn’t know what to make of. Intimidation tactics, most likely, “picture books are the only ones you read, right?”

He doesn’t respond to Soonyoung’s cry of outrage, straightening up with a kinder expression on his face as he gestures for Seokmin and Seungkwan to pose for a photo. They oblige way too easily, succumbing to the lens with matching beams, arms slung around each other. The sandwich Soonyoung had earlier curdles in his gut and he pictures the acid eating away at the ham that was inside. Mmm, processed meat fumes.

“Besides,” Wonwoo nods with approval at the pair and they relax immediately, jumping right into their conversation from earlier. Something in Soonyoung’s chest clenches up watching Seokmin so comfortable. Comfortable without him. He’ll be fine next year when Soonyoung’s gone and graduated, Soonyoung realises hollowly, more than fine actually.

He wonders how selfish he must be to hate that fact.

“Hey.”

Soonyoung viscerally tears his eyes away from the lovey-doveyness of the pair, trying his best to swallow the bitterness lacing his throat.

“What.”

“Nothing geez,” Wonwoo raises his eyebrows, dark eyes roving over his features. It gets him antsy in his own skin, like he’s nothing more than a specimen under the Jeon Microscope, “you just looked a little out of it. Didn’t want you to fuck up your solo tonight.”

Soonyoung flinches, taken aback, “How do you know I have a solo?”

Suddenly the other seems very interested in his camera, preoccupied with examining its dimpled surface. “Just uh, the program, you know.”

Weird. Soonyoung’s pretty sure his thirty second spotlight isn’t notable enough to feature in there.

“Yeah right, just admit you’re stalking me Jeon.” Soonyoung retorts smugly, revelling in the appalled reaction he gets. Watching Wonwoo reel is one of his favourite past times, Principal’s Pet brought to his knees.

“As _if_.” Wonwoo blusters, pushing his glasses up on his reddened face, “Just don’t want you to embarrass the school, that’s all - there’s a reason why Changgu was only fifteen votes behind you.”

“Oh fuck off Jeon,” Soonyoung bristles, stomach clenching in knots at the sheer audacity. He doesn’t like being reminded of his narrow victory, that there were only fifteen between him and crushing disappointment, “as if you can talk.”

Wonwoo narrows his eyes, “What do you mean by that.”

“I _mean_ \- “

“Hey guys!” Seungkwan’s voice intervenes between them like a physical presence, the younger’s voice chipper with alarm, “Soonyoung needs to save his voice for the concert and I think Yerin needs you out there, Wonwoo. Why don’t you guys talk later?”

“Yeah,” Seokmin wraps an arm around Soonyoung and pulls him into his side, signature smile only slightly strained from the atmosphere, “we’re all friends here.”

“I’m not his friend.” Soonyoung bites out, folding his arms across his chest obstinately. Seokmin falters a little and Soonyoung only feels a little bit bad at having put a dent in his sunshine.

“Well you’re both on the student exec,” Seungkwan supplies hesitantly in the awkward quiet hanging, “so co-workers at least, right? You guys should be civil.”

“I’ll be civil when he takes his shitty photos and shittier personality and fucks off to the hellhole he crawled out from.”

“Real mature, I’ll be sure to pass my mother your regards.” Wonwoo scoffs, regarding him for a few seconds with an indiscernible expression before shaking his head, almost imperceptibly, “Whatever.” He turns to Seokmin and Seungkwan and waves sincerely, “Good luck for your performances,” he swivels his head and blinks slow and purposeful at Soonyoung through his circle frames, “I’m sure the _both_ of you will do great.”

Petty, thy name is Wonwoo Jeon.

But then he takes a deep breath and weirdly enough, faces him next. A pink tongue darts out to wet his lips and there must be some witchcraft in play because Soonyoung can’t look away.

“Good luck to you too, Soonyoung. Let’s work well together this year.”

And in the wake of the frozen silence, no one knowing quite how to react, he leaves, school blazer padding out his noodle-y form and making his exit even more striking as he returns to the green.

In Soonyoung’s book, it’s yet another reason to abolish the stupid woollen garment.

 

//

 

The next time he sees Wonwoo is too soon for his liking.

Realistically speaking, the grounds are only so big, it’s unrealistic that Soonyoung wouldn’t catch a glimpse of him in and between classes. He’d managed well enough last year - they had shared no common classes and he’d simply ignored the other when brushing by on the stairwell.

This year though, they’re both on exec. And that means...

“Welcome to the first student exec meeting of the year.” Principal Brown greets them cordially. They’re all gathered around the oval mahogany table in the room adjacent to her office, sipping tea or coffee (or juice in Changkyun’s case) out of school-logo embossed cups. A plate of biscuits had sat in the centre of the table, untouched as they’d waited for everyone to file in to begin the meeting after school. It’s now sitting across from him, in front of Changkyun, the elected Service Captain eyeing them much like how Junhui was eyeing Jihoon in his tailored suit during Ball earlier this year. Soonyoung shudders at the memory. “We’re going to begin going through the agenda our Secretary,” she pauses, gesturing at Yujin, “kindly wrote and distributed. I expect all of you to have read it.”

Soonyoung has not, in fact, read it.

They start plowing through the two pages at a brisk pace and Soonyoung begins to notice a pattern within the first three items. The topic comes up, there’s a brief discussion of the current situation, someone proposes a change, Brown shoots them down, they move on. Rinse. Repeat.

Soonyoung’s slowly beginning to realise that being on exec only gives him power on paper. _Maybe this is what the first meeting’s all about_ , he digs his fingernails into his thigh and tries not to scream, _showing the students who’s_ still _in charge here._

Opposite him, coming to the same realisation, Changkyun’s given up his internal fight to not eat the cookies.

Soonyoung nudges Seungyeon and nods over to him subtly, “Bet you he finishes those before we get to number ten on the agenda.”

Seungyeon perks up at the prospect of a bet, narrowing her eyes as she studies the tottering pile and Changkyun’s enthusiasm as he shoves the first into his mouth. Crumbs spray unattractively on the surface in front of him and Principal Brown pauses to clear her throat pointedly, before continuing.

“Nah, did you see him at the international fair last year? Dude bought five portions of _jeon_ and ate them all right in front of our stall. Ten bucks that he finishes them by number eight.”

“You’re on.”

The meeting goes on and so does Changkyun’s consumption of the biscuits. Soonyoung’s getting more and more convinced that he’s going to lose the bet, mentally preparing to go home and beg his Mum for a little more pocket allowance this month to pay Seungyeon off. He wonders what excuse he could give her.

The pile is now composed of three crackers and a digestive and they’ve just finished ‘discussing’ adding a new computer club to their list of societies. Unsurprisingly, it had been rejected.

And then the miracle of all miracles happens. Changkyun reaches out for the digestive, hand hovering over the cookie, before he retracts it and tucks both his hands under his butt.

 _Dud_ e. Seungyeon mouths at him irritatedly, adding an angry furrow of her eyebrows.

 _Stale_ . Changkyun mouths back, making a face. _Couldn’t do it anymore._

 _Woohoo_. Soonyoung sticks a tongue out at Seungyeon victoriously and vibrates throughout the remaining agenda items.

They come to the last one around 4.30 pm; a fairly short session seems to be one of the only positives about being puppet-controlled by the administration’s wishes.

“Now we’re opening this up to the floor,” Brown clasps her hands together and her lips turn upwards in a mimicry of a smile, “any student concerns you’d like discuss or take up with me? Let’s start from our Head Boy, shall we? Since Yerin had an inter-school track meet to attend.”

“Yes.” Wonwoo coughs, fingers reaching up to straighten his Windsor knot. He seems nervous for some reason but Soonyoung can’t quite tell from the other end of the table, having chosen the furthest possible seat away from the other. “I’ve been approached by some students about the possibility of mixing uniform pieces between the assigned boys uniform and girls uniform. Currently, this is against uniform policy but I have been presented with a few strong reasons why we should consider amending it.”

“Hold on there,” Brown holds out a hand, cutting Wonwoo off. She does that whole smile-mimicry thing again but it looks faker this time, if that were possible, “that’s a lovely idea Wonwoo but ah,” she drums her long nails on the lacquered surface, “our uniform policy has been created to reflect the best image of the school - and all of you,” she adds as an afterthought, “to others. Letting students mix between both sets of uniforms would look…” She grimaces, “Messy.”

“Bullshit.” Seungyeon mumbles underneath her breath and Soonyoung silently agrees. They all know it’s not about being ‘neat and tidy’; admin has always been horrified by the prospect of girls being ‘unladylike’ and wearing anything but a skirt or dress to school, much less the possibility of a _boy_ wearing a skirt. They’d probably have an aneurysm, nearly did actually a few years back when Ten had attended form class wearing the girls’ white socks instead of the boys’ black ones. “I’d look _great_ in pants. Just say you want to preserve gender roles and go.”

Brown flourishes her hand in a dismissive gesture, “Lovely to hear that students are trusting you with their concerns though, Wonwoo, keep it up.” She swivels her head to scrutinise them all, as if daring someone to speak up. “Anyone else?”

Changkyun, as if to fill the tense hush that falls, reaches for the stale digestive.

“ _Actually_.” Wonwoo pushes his chair back, enough to draw attention to himself, lips set into a firm line. Soonyoung can see his hands trembling under the table though, wringing together in his lap. “If it’s quite alright, could I please continue where I left off. I think the students I spoke to deserve to have their reasoning heard.”

Brown, is quite clearly taken aback. Soonyoung, previously toying with a crumb that had flown over to his side of the table, is too.

In his mind, Wonwoo had won out over him as admin’s pick for Head Boy because he was a good student. A good student meaning he was obedient, wouldn’t rock the boat if not commanded to. And maybe (additional to everything else) Soonyoung had resented him for that.

When he’d been planning his campaign last year, he’d made a list of things he wanted to change as Head Boy and tacked it up on his wall, right next to his Taemin poster. When Wonwoo’s name had been called, it was like resigning all his goals to the trash. Anyone else he could’ve worked with maybe, but Wonwoo? The very prospect was laughable: working for change with the boy who’s brought the exact same vegetable cracker snack to school ever since he was six.

Guess the joke’s on him now, getting the uniform policy changed had been the second dot point on his list

“You may present if no one else has any other matters to bring up.” Brown sweeps over their staid faces and sighs. “Go ahead.”

Wonwoo stands and scoops up the papers he’d laid in front of him. He arranges to hold them in his left hand, pushing his glasses up with the other. Then he starts, drawing himself up to his full height, speaking a little fast from nerves but steady in resolve.

“From the feedback I have received, there are a few points I would like to argue in favour of a change to the policy - ”

As he listens, Soonyoung has to admit, no matter how grudgingly, that Wonwoo seems to be taking their roles as student representatives seriously. It’s almost sexy which is seriously not something he ever thought he’d be saying about his arch-nemesis.

 _“_ \- practically, it allows students to adapt to various weather conditions. Girls, for example, would no longer have to wear skirts and socks to school during winter if they are given the option of pants…”

Which now he thinks about it. Straight teeth, deep voice, sharp jawline. _Fuck_ , Soonyoung curses, feeling his mouth dry up as he stares at Wonwoo’s side profile, _it’s such a shame that Wonwoo grew up hot_. It was fine in primary school when they were both fetuses with no standards for attractiveness and it was perfectly valid to like-like someone for sharing their coloured pencils or their vegetable cracker snacks with you but unfortunately, this is the ‘adult’ world.

“ - therefore allowing students to dress in a way that they’re comfortable with is conducive for better mental health, comfort levels and self-confidence, compelling reasons why we should strongly consider changing our uniform policy.”

Wonwoo finishes strongly, eyes bright and piercing. Changkyun claps, the last biscuit in his mouth, and everyone follows a millisecond later, even Soonyoung. He’ll give credit due where it’s due.

“Thank you, Wonwoo.” Principal Brown takes a sip from her coffee cup and puts it down with a decisive clack on the saucer. She doesn’t pause to consider, just monotones, “You presented some interesting points however, I’m afraid my opinion hasn’t changed.” She pauses, “Keep up the good work, dear.”

It’s the most insincere he’s ever heard her sound.

“But - “ Wonwoo says, eyes dulling all of a sudden, “I don’t understand why - “

“It doesn’t fit with the school’s branding,” Principal Brown clucks, a little impatient now. She probably didn’t expect her puppet to act out this much, “and administration has the last say. Apologies, dear, why don’t you take a seat. Now if that’s all for today, I think we’ve had a fairly productive - ”

“Excuse me?” Soonyoung sticks his hand in the air and waves it around to attract attention. It works but she’s frowning at him like she hates him. He doesn’t mind, she probably does. “But I just wanted to ask whether it’s _really_ true that admin has the last say - don’t you answer to the Board of Directors?”

He’s so thankful he ended up as Seokmin’s Buddy in the junior’s first year, forming a bosom friendship after accidentally serving a volleyball into his face, moving the school tour forward in the schedule as he showed him to the infirmary. He’d gone over to Seokmin’s house enough over the break to mope, awkwardly running into Seokmin’s mum in the kitchen whilst his head was stuck in their fridge enough times to know that she’s _on_ the Board.

“Well,” Brown hedges, looking like she’d rather be doing anything apart from answering this question, “you could say that.”

“Why don’t we bring the matter to the Board for consideration then?” Soonyoung says cheerily, ignoring everyone’s stunned silence. Is it that much of a shock that he can be smart sometimes? Wait, he probably doesn’t want that answered. “We can create a proposal and have them _properly_ consider it.”

He accidentally meets eyes with Wonwoo for a second and everything tangles up inside when Wonwoo smiles at him, small and thankful.

“I - “ Principal Brown starts.

“That sounds like a great idea, Soonyoung.” Seungyeon claps him on the back, smiling enthusiastically at the Principal, not letting the older woman’s strained smile bother her.

“Yeah!” Changkyun joins in, giving him a double thumbs up and also spraying him with saliva-crumb. The biscuits are all gone.

“Could up uniform sales.” Jihoon mumbles from the corner, looking up from his notebook and giving him a small nod.

The rest of the exec follow with their own form of support, winking at him or proclaiming what a _fantastic opportunity it is to showcase students really being leaders_ and the upturn of the Principal’s lips are flattening out by the second.

It’s fantastic. Soonyoung can smell change on the horizon.

“Enough, settle.” Brown thumps the table firmly and turns a saccharine grimace onto Soonyoung, “Now that’s a lovely idea dearie, but a minimum of two executive members will need to work on this proposal and the next Board meeting is in two months. As one of our star athletes, Yerin will be tied up with athletics season in that time so I don’t possibly see how - “

“I’ll work on it.” Soonyoung volunteers, thumbing his Culture Captain badge, “Culture is all about expressing yourself, I’d say this falls into my portfolio.”

She shuts her mouth with a clack and that’s that.

 

//

 

**dickhead**

_Thanks for volunteering to work on this with me_

 

**Me**

_it’s a good cause_

 

**dickhead**

_Yeah it is. I’m really excited about making it happen. When do you want to meet up_

 

**Me**

_weekends or thursday after school_

 

**dickhead**

_I volunteer at a cat shelter on Sundays, so Saturday?_

 

**Me:**

_any time after 3_

_mine or urs_

 

**dickhead:**

_That’s pretty forward of you_

 

**Me:**

_FUCK OFF_

 

**dickhead:**

_Lol let’s go to mine. Do you still remember where it is_

 

//

 

“My parents aren’t home right now but - “

“Woah,” Soonyoung wraps his arms around himself protectively, “what are your intentions here Four-Eyes.”

“Are you serious,” Wonwoo rolls his eyes, holding the door open for him Soonyoung toes off his shoes and steps past the threshold, “yeah like I’m totally going to ravish you while _Bohyuk_ , if you remember him,” he jabs a thumb at the couch behind his shoulder, “is doing his maths homework in the living room. I just wanted to give you fair warning - we have to keep it down a little and I might have to run and help him from time to time.”

“You’re not even in Advanced Maths,” Soonyoung snorts, hitching his backpack up higher as he follows him further into the house. “How much can you help.”

“ _Fudge_ you.” Wonwoo pronounces with feeling as they navigate their way through the hallway into the living room, careful to censor himself for little ears. “Just because you’re in Advanced doesn’t mean you know how to balance a checkbook anymore than the rest of us.” He directs his next words to the hunched body working on the coffee table, “‘Hyuk, we’re gonna be in my room. Just yell out if you need help.”

The figure perched on the ground in front of the TV is considerably lankier than Soonyoung remembers, sharing his noodle-yness with his brother. When he turns around to acknowledge them, Soonyoung notices a smattering of stubble on his chin and a slimmer jawline and acne marks on his forehead. Logically it makes sense, he realises with sudden horror, Bohyuk’s one year older than Chan. There’s no reason why he should have expected Bohyuk to still be that sniffy four year old frozen in his memories, following them around on their ‘adventures’ despite all their drastic attempts to dislodge him.

‘Little ears’, yeah nah. Bohyuk isn’t so little anymore.

“You haven’t been much help though.” He lifts up a hand in cursory greeting to Soonyoung and then turns back to his homework. He doesn’t seem to remember him.

“Hi,” Soonyoung croaks out, lifting his own hand to offer a weak wave back.

“I’ve been helping you,” Wonwoo argues back as he leads them into the attached kitchen, swinging open the fridge door, “how would you have understood long division without me?”

“You just googled stuff,” Bohyuk’s voice floats back, “I could’ve done that.”

“Yeah well,” Wonwoo digs through his fridge and tosses an pear at Soonyoung, pulling out an apple for himself, “I googled so I still helped!” He gestures at the pear in Soonyoung’s hand, taking a big bite of his apple, “You still prefer pears right?”

“Uh.” Soonyoung looks down at the fruit in his hand, feeling a little like he’s stepped into an alternate dimension where he hadn’t stopped being chummy with Wonwoo Jeon all those years ago. “Yeah.”

“Cool,” Wonwoo finishes chewing and swallows, adam’s apple bobbing as the bite goes down. Wait, why is he noticing that? “Do you want something to drink? Water? Juice?”

“I’ve got water in my bag - “

“I want Coke!” Bohyuk yells.

“You already have water!” Wonwoo shouts back before resuming his placid self, only a tinge embarrassed at his volume. It’s a little bit endearing, “Sorry about this.”

“It’s fine,” Soonyoung bites into the pear, chewing voraciously to occupy himself, “I’ve got an older sister so - “

“Oh yeah,” Wonwoo nods towards the stairs leading to the upper floor, exiting the kitchen and leading the way towards his bedroom, “how’s Soonhee?”

Soonyoung, used to the question, answers without hesitation, “Uh, she likes the course she’s doing now which is cool since she transferred in at the start of the year. She says engineering is a lot more interesting than compsci so yeah, she’s doing good - “

“Well.”

Soonyoung is staring at the small of Wonwoo’s back, definitely not his butt, as they go up the stairs.

“Well what?” He asks in a daze as they reach the top of the landing.

“She’s doing ‘well’,” Wonwoo clarifies, bringing them into the second door on the left, “not ‘good’.”

God. A hot rush of irritation floods through Soonyoung and he stops before he enters past the threshold into Wonwoo’s room.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He hisses, conscious of Bohyuk working downstairs from them.

“What?” Wonwoo looks up, blinking wide eyes in alarm at Soonyoung’s outburst. Soonyoung hates that, hates that he falters for a second, hates him. “What’s up?”

“What’s up?” Soonyoung laughs sharply, swinging his backpack off and dropping it carelessly in the doorway. “Nothing, _Jeon_ , absolutely nothing. Look, we’re not friends so let’s just finish this proposal, okay?”

Just as he was starting to think they could make amends for all those years before, he’s reminded that Wonwoo still exactly the same asshole he was when he was younger. Soonyoung was fooled by the outside, that’s all. It won’t happen again.

“What the - “ Wonwoo grits his teeth and pinches the bridge of his nose, visibly holding himself back. A sick part of Soonyoung wants to see him lose it, wants to provoke a reaction that goes beyond angry exhales or a carefully moderated tone of voice. He wants to make Wonwoo blow up, show the world he’s not as perfectly composed as he pretends. “Fine, whatever. We’ll finish this and then you don’t ever have to talk to me again outside of exec, okay?”

They finish a draft by dinner time and Soonyoung excuses himself stiffly from Wonwoo’s room. He tries to make a quick escape but finds himself explaining how to rationalise fractions to Bohyuk before he goes and Wonwoo’s mother, bless her heart, tries to get him to stay for dinner. He rebuffs her attempts as politely as possible, wincing internally when he promises _another time!_ and Bohyuk whoops in glee, saying he won’t have to get after-school tutoring after all.

“It’s good to see you around again Soonyoung,” she rests a warm hand on his shoulder and smiles, exactly the same way she did all those years ago, just as beautiful, “you’ve grown up so much.”

Has he really?

Soonyoung laughs weakly and nods, stuttering out protests when she tucks a tupperware of kimchi into his bag and sends him off at the door, muttering fondly about her impolite son not having the manners to see guests out.

 

 **dickhead** :

_Make sure you return the container._

 

Asshole. Soonyoung shoves his phone into his pocket and ignores it the entire bus ride home. When he checks it later, after a shower, dinner and stilted conversation about the origins of the kimchi, there’s a new message, sent three minutes after the first.

 

**dickhead:**

_Get home safe_

 

//

 

He goes over to Wonwoo’s house two more times after that to finalise their presentation, each time working in awkward silence until they part ways. Soonyoung’s managed to escape being trapped into dinner there so far but he’s not sure how long his luck will last.

Maybe it’s irrelevant though because he can’t even seem to escape him at school.

If Wonwoo’s not in the library when Soonyoung’s abusing his coffee machine privileges, he’s walking around the grounds at lunchtime snapping pictures of the little groups of seniors having their lunch on the grass. And when he’s not doing that, he’s sucking up to Mr Yang in Advanced English, dominating their class discussions about whatever symbolism of the streets in T.S Eliot’s Prufrock.

Like now.

Soonyoung had scanned the first couple of lines, realised they were in Italian, and promptly decided to take a nap.

“Thanks for reading, Wonwoo.” if Mr Yang smiled any wider, there would be no more of his cheeks left to split, “Now, how would you interpret these two lines? How do they make you feel?”

“Um,” Wonwoo, sitting in the front row like a nerd, taps the end of his pen on his chin, “well one of the things I noticed is that the simile Eliot used - “like a tedious argument” - really struck me.”

“Why?” Mr Yang prompts, enlivened. He looks like he’s never had such a responsive participant in one of his class discussions before. A quick look around the room and Soonyoung can understand why - next to him Junhui’s building a tower out of his Daiso food erasers, Jihoon scribbling in a tattered notebook that looks leagues away from his English one and Sana testing out how many times she can poke Jeongyeon until the other girl smacks her away. Not really the most inspired English class out there.

Wonwoo bites his lip, “Well arguments aren’t usually described as tedious, I guess? When we talk about arguments, we picture people screaming or yelling at each other. When an argument’s _tedious_ …”

Soonyoung stares off into space, mind fogging over. God he wishes the bell would ring already.

“ - so it’s a really effective simile to emphasise how the streets are winding or seemingly never-ending. It’s like a burden, holding them back.”

It’s not Wonwoo’s deep voice that cuts through his drifting thoughts but the sheer weight of the gaze fixed upon him. Soonyoung cuts his eyes around the room to find the source and locks eyes with Wonwoo, three desks left of him. Wonwoo dares to stare back for half a second before seeming to think better of it, shifting his eyes back to his desk.

“Like bad history. Regrets. Things you want to apologise for.”

There’s a prickly feeling in his chest he can’t identify, scratching insistently underneath his skin. He rubs his sternum in confusion as he slumps down in his chair, tripping over his own thoughts to rationalise why Wonwoo’s words are making him feel this way.

He’s just showing off… right?

His gaze creeps over, motivated by unstoppable curiosity, wandering up from Wonwoo’s long legs clad in school regulation trousers to his dress shirt, entirely free of wrinkles, and then to his face.

Wonwoo arches an eyebrow at him.

Soonyoung whips his head away so quick he nearly snaps his neck and hides his burning cheeks by attempting to topple Junhui’s eraser tower.

 

//

 

**dickhead?**

_Stop stalking me_

 

**Me:**

_I WASN’T_

_i was jsut staring into space_

_i wasn’t staring_

_or stalking_

 

**dickhead?**

_Sure. Come over again after school? We need to organise the powerpoint_

 

**Me:**

_fine_

_warn your mum i can’t stay for dinner though_

 

**dickhead?**

_She’ll get you one day_

 

//

 

Soonyoung feels ridiculous right now, an eighteen year old still with his baby-fat cheeks playing dress-up in a suit, a ridiculously sugary concoction with a chocolate frog topping it off sitting in front of him. It’s the entirety of the pocket money he had left for this month. In his defence though, it’s a celebration. He didn’t go through two months of prep, forced rapid acquisition of Powerpoint skills and a shaky twenty minute proposal right in front of the Board of Directors to _not_ earn the chance to flirt with diabetes.

“Look, at least it’s over,” Wonwoo swirls his disgusting black coffee around in its cup, cupping his face with his hand as he stares into its depths. Soonyoung wonders if he actually likes that swill - every time he’s gone over to Wonwoo’s so far, the other boy has always chosen Capri-Suns out of the fridge to drink. Even at dinner, that one time Wonwoo’s mum finally got him, it was Capri-Sun straight from the pantry at _room temperature_. As far as Soonyoung’s concerned, Wonwoo may be smart but not where it comes to drink choices, “just gotta wait for the decision.”

“Yeah.” Soonyoung says, wrapping his dry lips around the straw, “but overall, I thought we did well. Seokmin’s mum looked pretty convinced and Brown looked mad so - ” He sucks, cheeks hollowed, and inhales a whole load of whipped cream for his troubles. He splutters at the overload and falls back, thumping his chest to dislodge it. He glares at his proposal partner through teary eyes. Wonwoo isn’t even trying to help, that ass, just staring at him with eyes glazed over. He shifts uncomfortably. “O-oi! I’m choking to death here.”

“Oh,” Wonwoo startles back into himself and picks up a napkin like an automaton, leaning across the table to dab cautiously at Soonyoung’s lips, “yeah, here.”

“What the fuck!” Soonyoung yelps, clapping his hand to his mouth, scooching back so quickly he nearly loses his balance. He’s attracting way too much judgment from the small group of elderly ladies sitting close but he’s much too compromised to care. His ears are going a traitorous colour of tomato, he can feel it. “Why did you do that?”

“You wanted me to help.” Wonwoo says simply, tugging at the crisp collar of his own button-up shirt so that it loosens up, revealing a pale sliver of skin. Soonyoung resolutely stares at his nose instead. Damnit, it’s just as nice. Who the fuck has a _nice_ nose? “You had cream there - didn’t want it getting everywhere.”

“Doesn’t mean you can just - ” Soonyoung flails his hands about as if to make his point, “we’ve only been working together for like, two months.” He doesn’t count primary school.

Wonwoo cocks his head, leans a little further forward as if to make up the distance between them, and stares. There are no glasses obstructing his eyes which makes this a very dangerous situation for Soonyoung; he’d nearly run himself into a pole this morning when he’d noticed Wonwoo with contacts in instead of his trademark frames, “What? So if we work together longer then…”

“What the fuck,” Soonyoung cringes, covering his face with his hands, “how do you get away with saying stuff like that.”

Wonwoo shrugs, “I’m hot.”

Soonyoung has no smart response to that, silently taking a long sip of his drink.

“Wait what,” Wonwoo crows in glee, all of a sudden regressing to a five year old, “do you actually think I’m hot?” There’s a sort of pure happiness that radiates from him, makes him look nothing like the stand-offish cold boy Soonyoung’s pegged him as all these years. The change knocks him off-balance, makes him dizzy for a second.

“I didn’t say that.” Soonyoung says, sticking his tongue out at Wonwoo to make his point.

“You didn’t deny it though.” Wonwoo comes back with, eyes sparkling mischievously. He makes a noise like he’s come up with an idea and dives into the messenger bag he’d been carrying with him, quick as a flash. He surfaces with a camera and points it at a startled Soonyoung, clicking it in rapid succession.

“Wonwoo!”

“Well, well, well, here we have Soonyoung Kwon,” Wonwoo scrolls through the various shots with delight, giggling at a couple of more amusing ones. He lets Soonyoung glimpse them too, snatching the camera away when Soonyoung whines and reaches out for the ‘delete’ button, “number one member of the Wonwoo-Jeon-is-Hot club.”

“I can think friends are hot!” Soonyoung says defensively, not putting much thought into his words as he struggles to overcome the distance between them.

Wonwoo gapes at him. It’s nice to see him lost for words, Soonyoung thinks smugly.

“We’re friends?” He asks, softer and more tentative than he was expecting.

“Um,” Soonyoung says awkwardly. The camera is in reach but he doesn’t know if he wants to break the mood, betray Wonwoo’s rare vulnerability, just to delete a couple of photos that weren’t even that bad, “I mean... I guess you’re not the total worst. Thanks for helping me out in English, I wouldn’t have gotten that 80 on the last essay without you.”

“It was nothing,” Wonwoo looks to the side, shy, “I like the subject and it’s fun to ramble on about it. Thanks for helping Bohyuk with his homework. You…” He winces, words coming out like pulled teeth, “you explain it a lot better than I could. He raves about you these days, y’know?”

“Aww really?” Soonyoung beams. He’s gotta wave hello to the kid the next time they pass each other in the halls. “I’m glad I could help.”

Wonwoo hums and nods, flicking him a small smile before fiddling with his camera. It’s not as nice as the school ones, Soonyoung notices, but it looks well taken care of. His possessions are all like that, Soonyoung recalls from having been in his room more times than he’d ever planned for: books worn at the spines but pages immaculate, plant on his window small but a vibrant green as it reached for the sun, desk showing some wear but scratches buffed out as much as possible.

“Wait,” Soonyoung pipes up after they’ve drained their drinks by half in peaceful silence, “so when did they say they’d finalise the decision by? Next semester?”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo frowns, “after exams."

“Great,” Soonyoung scrunches up his face, “I’ve gotta stress about that _and_ Dance Showcase. And then after that, Music Night.”

“Don’t forget Media Showcase.” Wonwoo’s mouth quirks upwards, continuing. “And then we’ve gotta get a committee together for End of Year Informal. And plan a graduation event for everyone. Whilst also studying for final exams.”

“Fuck,” Soonyoung whines with feeling, angrily attacking his three-quarters-melted drink, “I can’t wait until we graduate. Joshua - you know Joshua, right - says it’s so much better in uni.”

Wonwoo laughs, “I don’t know, I’m gonna miss a lot of things about high school.”

“Not the bathrooms,” Soonyoung says immediately and then sinks back, pensive, “but yeah… me too.” Not the classes that’s for sure, but the people: Seokmin, Miss Oh, all of their other miserable exec members, most of their cohort except for that guy who always makes maths puns at the back of the class.

(Wonwoo. Maybe.)

“It’s so weird that things are gonna go on without us,” Wonwoo mumbles, sipping at the last of his coffee, “like Bohyuk’s gonna function just fine without me around to embarrass him.” He snorts, “Heck, he’ll probably prefer it.”

“Yeah,” Soonyoung mumbles. He doesn’t voice it but he’s glad someone else has had the same realisation as him, the same worry it won’t matter that he’s gone, life goes on, “I feel like I’m gonna miss them more than they miss me.”

“I doubt it,” Wonwoo shakes his head disbelievingly, eyes regaling him with something almost like fondness, “no one could _not_ miss you. You’re an experience, a riding-the-fastest-rollercoaster-in-the-world kind of experience, a winning-the-lottery kind of experience, a-a-a first-kiss kind of experience.” He huffs lightly at his stammer on the last one, ducking his head. “Trust me.”

Oh. They’re going there.

Wonwoo coughs embarrassedly into his fist and pulls at his collar again, fingers fiddling absentmindedly with the next button down on his shirt and maybe slightly fritzing Soonyoung’s brain out.

“I-I just mean um - “

“Hey Wonwoo.” Soonyoung interrupts, because he think he gets it a little more, has matured enough in these past months to move past the past. He bites into the chocolate frog he’d left on the side for last, “you know, I’m kinda glad that Brown’s as shitty as she is.”

_I’m kinda glad to have met you again._

That startles a warm laugh from Wonwoo.

“Yeah,” he drums his fingers on the table and ends up resting his hand a few centimetres away from Soonyoung’s, so close they could almost touch, “me too.”

 

//

 

“You look like you’ve gone for a dip.”

Soonyoung looks up from his cup of Sprite to a very not-sweaty Wonwoo, appropriately decked out to match their Hawaiian theme. His lack of glasses whilst charming, just reveal how extremely uncomfortable he feels in his flowery orange shirt. In contrast, Soonyoung is covered in a thick layer of sweat from aggressively jumping on the dance floor to every song that had come on. Even antiperspirant won’t save him now. It doesn’t help that the teachers have limited the opening of the doors on the cruise that they hired so everything inside is just steamy in general.

It also doesn’t help that Wonwoo is standing right in front of him, shutting him in between his body and the drinks table. Oddly, Soonyoung’s not minding that as much.

“Yeah well,” Soonyoung puffs, chugging down the soft drink, “this is what happens when you have _fun_ Wonwoo, is that even in your dictionary?”

“I have fun,” Wonwoo protests, poking Soonyoung in the shoulder playfully, “I’m having fun now."

“What talking to me?” Soonyoung snorts, squinting through the steam to discern faces. “Where’s Jihoon? Don’t you usually hang out with him? Or Yerin?”

“Jihoon doesn’t like social events,” Wonwoo rolls his eyes, “he stayed home to play Overwatch, lucky asshole. And Yerin’s with her other group of friends, didn’t want to bother her.”

“So you came to bother me?” Soonyoung folds his arms in mock-offence but his slight smile betrays him, “Have you even danced tonight?”

“Um,” Wonwoo scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, “not really. Too busy making sure everything’s running smoothly y’know - pizza’s delivered, people not humping it up somewhere, we’re not gonna crash into a iceberg - that kind of thing.”

“We’re cruising on the river,” Soonyoung states matter of factly, turning to the drinks table to pour himself more Sprite. He pinches the hem of his own overly large Hawaiian shirt and flaps it, making the whole thing billow out away from him like a sail, “hate to break it to you Mr Head Boy but we’re not gonna crash into anything soon.”

“Aw darn,” Wonwoo says with a completely straight face, “I was really hoping for death before results come out.”

“Ew don’t remind me,” Soonyoung makes a face and sips from his cup, “everytime I think about how the English exam, I wanna curl up in a ball and cry.”

“It’s okay,” Wonwoo leans over him to get to the drinks table and Soonyoung finds himself holding his breath. Irrationally, the way Wonwoo said the word _humping_ earlier makes its way into his monkey brain. He hates being eighteen, “you’ve got back-up subjects plus you did well enough in the mocks. Can’t have been that bad.”

“Still,” Soonyoung shrugs, air draining from his body like a pricked balloon when Wonwoo pulls back with his own cup of orange juice, “I never want to see the word _symbolism_ ever again.”

Wonwoo laughs, pearly whites flashing in the dark and Soonyoung’s heart skips a beat for the mere fact that it’s directed at him.

“I never want to see fractions ever again so I guess I get you.” Wonwoo scrunches up his nose in disgust and holds out his cup. “Here’s to never having to do subjects you hate ever again?”

“I’ll cheers to that.” Soonyoung clinks his plastic cup with Wonwoo’s and they share equally amused looks before drinking.

“Wonwoo!”

A small hand taps Wonwoo’s shoulder and Wonwoo turns around, “Yerin, hey! Sooyoung, Jennie, Hayoung, what’s up? How’s it going?”

“Informal's great!” Someone pipes up and there’s a chorus of agreement after that. Wonwoo shuffles aside to make him part of the circle which Soonyoung appreciates. He waves chirpily at the girls and they wave back at him, he’s pretty comfortable with them from running in the same circles.

“Definitely beats Ball,” Yerin laughs, adjusting her lei, “folding all those paper flowers was such a bitch. This was way easier to organise.”

Soonyoung remembers those paper flowers with resentment. Who thought ‘Secret Garden’ would’ve been a good theme anyways?

“Anyways,” Yerin continues perkily, “you’ve already heard it from me but the others wanted to congratulate you again on the whole uniform win.”

“God yeah,” Jennie grins, “I can’t believe we can wear pants now. Especially since winter’s here.”

“I can’t believe my legs aren’t going to freeze off anymore.” Hayoung says dreamily. “Also I heard one of the guys in the lower years bought a skirt for summer, how cool is that?”

“Yeah and fuck shaving my legs,” Sooyoung whoops, clapping Wonwoo on the shoulder, “good job Head Boy, knew we were right to trust in you.”

“A-ah thanks,” Wonwoo stammers out and for a second, Soonyoung thinks that he’s going to ask someone to dance, “but actually Soonyoung here deserves equal credit.”

“Seriously?” Sooyoung points a finger at him accusingly as he goes red under their combined incredulous gazes, “You never said!”

“You never asked!” Soonyoung crosses his arms defensively.

“Uh,” Hayoung splutters, “I’m pretty sure I was like ‘Wow I can’t believe we can wear pants now’, and you were like ‘Thank Wonwoo for that’.”

“Um,” Soonyoung frantically chokes down the rest of his drink and slams the cup down on the table, waving a weak goodbye at the girls, “actually you know what, can’t have this conversation right now, I’m going back to the dance floor. Feel free to uh, not join me.”

He sidesteps out of there as fast as possible, nearly to the sanctuary of sweaty bodies before a hand grabs his wrists, fingers long around to wrap around the entirety of it. Soonyoung nearly jumps out of his skin, yanking his hand back in reflex. There’s a noise, a cat-like grunt of alarm, and he turns to see Wonwoo standing in front of him apologetically, nursing his hand.

“What?” He mutters sulkily, not wanting to deal with this right now.

“I just - “ Wonwoo runs his hand through his not-sweaty hair in frustration, “Look, can we just talk for a second?”

Soonyoung gestures at the pulsating dance floor, then points to his ear and shrugs.

Wonwoo sighs, biting his lower lip, “Just - “

He looks around for a second, using his higher vantage point to scope something out. He comes back to Soonyoung after a few seconds, seemingly having decided on something.

“Follow me?” He says, barely audible over the new song starting up and everyone immediately singing along to the _apple bottom jeans and the boots with the fur (with the fur!)_ But then he holds out his hand to Soonyoung, palm up and waiting.

Maybe he’s always been waiting.

Soonyoung nods, small, and gingerly rests his hand over Wonwoo’s. Wonwoo’s features smoothen out as his bigger hand closes over Soonyoung’s in a gentle but firm grip. He gives his hand a quick squeeze and smiles, hesitant and beautiful with the moonlight playing sonatas over his features.

He leads them over to the side when Miss Oh is guarding one of the doors leading out to the lower deck of the ship.

“Hey,” he says awkwardly, jabbing a thumb at the door, “can we head out there for a sec? We won’t fall off the side or anything.”

Miss Oh eyes them both with an indulgent smile on her face so it’s barely a surprise when she lets them through, patting Soonyoung’s shoulder encouragingly as he passes her by.

“Don’t get hypothermia!” She calls out after them and shuts the door behind them. Man, he loves Miss Oh.

“Fuck, she wasn’t kidding about the hypothermia.” Soonyoung gasps when the first gust of wind nearly blows him off his feet. Hawaiian shirts are not conducive to retaining heat. When he peeks at Wonwoo, the other is shivering too, teeth chattering like a skeleton from a shitty horror movie. “Where did you wanna talk?”

“Um,” Wonwoo looks like he’s rather regretting his suggestion to come out here too but he raises a trembling finger and points to the bow, “there? Come on.” He wraps his long fingers around Soonyoung’s wrist again and leads him there, cursing when he realises that the bow is where the worst of the wind is.

“Can’t we just go in,” Soonyoung wails miserably, hunching into himself, “I’ll take everyone’s sweat over this.”

“Nope,” Wonwoo grits out, manhandling him so that he’s standing in front of Wonwoo, flush with his front. Like this, Wonwoo’s body curls around him so Soonyoung’s not getting the worst of it, “we’re talking here.”

The wind buffets them again, water spray misting them lightly, and Wonwoo whimpers, tucking himself tighter around Soonyoung’s body.

It’s kind of cute.

“About what?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Wonwoo mumbles plaintively into the warm nook in Soonyoung’s neck area, “you know you deserve equal credit for the whole policy change thing. It was basically your idea to appeal to the Board in the first place. Plus, your list...”

“Yeah well,” Soonyoung flares his nostrils, not sure what to say. He doesn’t really know himself why he kept directing praise to Wonwoo instead of bolstering his cred like he’d wanted to at the start of the year, “I just thought… I don’t know. I just thought everyone should know that you’re a good Head Boy, not just, y’know - “

“An admin puppet?” Wonwoo fills in the blank for him.

“Yeah.” Soonyoung licks his drying lips and tucks his chin in, incidentally bringing his face into closer proximity with Wonwoo’s. “I thought that but I - “ It’s hard to admit, “I was wrong. Sorry. You’re a lot more than that. You’re just a loser who geeks out over lame things like poetry and cats and drinks Capri-Suns like they’re water.”

“Capri-Suns are good.” Wonwoo mumbles.

“Yeah sure okay,” Soonyoung rolls his eyes. He’s trying to _apologise_ and Wonwoo’s just going to go on about Capri-Suns, geez, “anyways, I wasn’t super nice to you for like, majority of high school I’m also sorry for that. You were just,” he sniffs, the cold starting to make his nose runny, “really good at things I wasn’t good at and, I don’t know, I was annoyed, I guess.”

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything for a while.

“Yeah, you haven’t been a very good husband.” He murmurs softly.

Soonyoung can’t help the fit of indignance that fires up his blood, twisting out of Wonwoo’s grasp and slapping his shoulder. The sound echoes and dies nearly immediately. They’ve been avoiding this particular issue for so long, Soonyoung’s ready to unleash everything he’s bottled up for so long, “Asshole! If anyone should be apologising for that, it’s you!”

“Me?” Wonwoo splutters, eyes wide. “Are you serious?”

“I poured out my feelings to you,” Soonyoung exclaims, voice pitchy, “and then you had the audacity to - “

“We were _six!_ ”

“Six year olds shouldn’t make other six year olds cry!"

“I - “ Wonwoo winces, “look in my defence, I thought I was impressing you!”

“In what universe - “

“I mean,” Wonwoo throws his hands up, exasperated and a little pained from reliving the memory, “the only thing I was good at then was literacy, right? So when you gave me your - “

“ - my _heartfelt_ and _genuine_ wedding vows, go on - “

Wonwoo groans and wipes his hand over his face, “I thought it’d impress you if I showed you how smart I was.”

“You scribbled all over them! In red pen!”

“You liked the colour red!”

“Who _corrects_ someone else’s wedding vows? At the wedding?”

“Did I ever say no?”

“I - “ Soonyoung stops. 

“Yeah,” Wonwoo, breath ragged from their semi-shouting match, takes a step towards him, grabbing his hands suddenly, “yeah I know I made you run away crying. I’m sorry, Soonyoung, seriously. I was a dumb kid and if I’d known then it’d make you hate me, I would've thrown every single red pen away.” He’s suddenly even closer, stooping a little to touch their foreheads together. “ _But_ if you’d given me a chance... I would’ve said ‘I Do’.”

“You fucker.” Soonyoung says simply, fighting back the urge to stomp on Wonwoo’s foot.

All this fucking time, he’d thought Wonwoo was just an early-bloomer bully. Who else would ask their best friend oh-so-innocently to meet him under that big tree on the oval, both of them in their little blue bucket hats, and present him with a candy ring to pop the question. Who else would meet up with him the next day, the planned date of their ‘wedding’ to exchange chaste first pecks on the mouths and vows, only to ridicule Soonyoung’s carefully crayon-ed vows in _red_ pen. Pretty elaborate long-con to both break his heart and rub Wonwoo’s superiority in his face all at once.

“You know,” Wonwoo's eyes are soft, drenched in honey, as they track over his features, “you never let me read _my_ vows to you.”

He hopes Wonwoo’s serious this time; he’s not ready to get his heart broken again.

“Fine,” Soonyoung chokes out, “say them. At least _I_ won’t pull out a red pen.”

Wonwoo’s body expands and contracts with his breaths, released in stutters.

“Soonyoung Kwon,” he says, “I’ve been a little bit in love with you ever since we were six years old and you lent me your crayons because my mum couldn’t get them for me. I’ve been a little bit in love with you ever since you performed at the Year 7 talent show, of all things, and a little bit more when I saw how passionate you were in your Head Boy speech.”

The wind batters them once more but he forges on, voice trembling, “To tell the truth, you deserve the position more than I do. You’re brave - a little bit stupid but brave, don’t think I forgot about the wall thing - ambitious and one of the best leaders I know. You may not have gotten Head Boy but I still think you’re an inspiration, and I’m sure a lot of the younger years think that too. I’ve pissed you off a lot in the past because I just,” Wonwoo breaks off in a shamed laugh, “didn’t know how to get close to you again, I guess. I’m still a kid like that, sorry.”

“These are some long-ass vows.” Soonyoung gets out through slowly-numbing lips and Wonwoo makes a strangled noise.

“Fuck - okay yeah it’s getting cold uh,” he licks his lips and moves his hands onto Soonyoung’s waist, holding him close, “Soonyoung Kwon. Would you please do the honour of being my boyfriend and also my playground-husband from twelve goddamn years ago - “

“Just fucking kiss me.” Soonyoung snakes his arms around Wonwoo’s neck and yanks him down to meet his lips. He can’t admit that it’s the best kiss he’s ever had, he can barely feel it at all actually, the cold numbing all feeling. But then Wonwoo steps in closer pins him back against the railing of the boat cups his jaw with his hand and  _tilts._

And he’s warm all over.

 

//

 

**Annual Yearbook: Editor’s Note**

_To Mum, without which I never would’ve been able to complete the year. Your eternal love, support and midnight snacks are invaluable. (Yes it was me who ate the leftovers, sorry.) I hope I’ve made you proud of me this year, I’ll continue to work even harder in the future. Love you._

_To Bohyuk, thanks for the coffee at weird hours and not playing PUBG when I was around. No thank you for hogging all the Capri-Suns. Sorry I couldn’t help you with your homework much this year but I’m sure you’ll be fine, you’re a Jeon. Even though we don’t say it much, hope you know I love you._

_Babe. I know we’ve had our challenges in the past and our fair share of being stupid together but we made it in the end. You made this year better than I could’ve ever imagined and we’re going to make next year even greater. We’ve done good._

_Love, your Head Boy_ _❤_

**Author's Note:**

> hewwo all, thank you for making it to the end <3
> 
> if you haven't noticed, this fic is set in a non-american high school setting because i projected all of my own experiences onto it hehe so if there are questions about certain terms or aspects of this universe, please leave them in the comments below!! if you have any comments about the fic in general (like whether you enjoyed it!) please also post them below - they will power me through the tough few days i have coming up...


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